The Blind Queen
by MelonBlock
Summary: Wrath has promised to take care of Darius's daughter, Elizabeth, as she nears her transition. What he does not know is that he has been waiting for her for all of his life... Will she be the reason that he ascends the throne? Will she be his Blind Queen? Based on the first book of the Black Dagger Brotherhood series by J R Ward
1. Chapter 1

Wrath stalked down the darkened street, measuring his breathing by the intervals of streetlamp illumination. Dark, dark, light. Dark, dark, light.

To be honest, it had been a long time since he had felt like this – like death. Darius's _accident_ had affected all in the Brotherhood, but for him it had been the first time in probably a hundred years that he felt any emotion as powerful as this crippling sorrow. He nearly laughed at the irony. Feeling like death made him feel… almost alive. He told myself that was the reason why he was chasing after a lost cause, attempting to fight a losing battle… though deep down perhaps he just wanted to regain a connection to Darius.

Vaguely, Wrath registered the echoing laughter of two or three human males as he passed them in an alleyway, probably making a pass at a female. He smelled, rather than saw, the subtle wave of fear that marred their perverse pleasure as he glanced their way, though it mattered little anyway. He was so dry it was tempting to succumb to the hunt there and then, but tonight he had a greater task than interrupting the twisted joys of street thugs.

Tonight, Wrath was going to meet Darius's daughter.

* * *

Quickening her pace, Beth retraced familiar steps home, the rapid _tap tap tap_ of her shoes giving away her anxiety even as she willed her face into nonchalance. She hadn't planned to stay quite so late at work, but the last call she'd picked up just wouldn't end… and now it sounded as though a couple of drunk guys had taken to following her home.

Beth swore under her breath, hoping she was wrong. Maybe they were just… taking the same route home? It was possible; she wasn't the only person living in the area, and maybe, you know, just maybe she was just being paranoid. Slowing slightly, she angled my head to get a better bearing on where the men were and got – nothing. No footsteps, no raucous joking, no jostling of fabric where they pushed each other around on the street.

Silently thanking her fairy godmother, she swallowed as a rush of relief flooded her body, warming her.

_See?_ She chided herself. _Just being silly._

Heavens knew, she was acting all sorts of strange lately.

That was Beth's last thought as something hurtled into her body, forcing her back into a concrete wall and squeezing the breath out of her lungs. Head reeling, she forced herself to bring her hands up, punching air, futilely trying to protect herself. The raucous laughter returned, mercilessly close to her face, and she fought back the urge to retch. Bile rose in her throat as panic re-entered her mind, chilling her to the bone. She lashed out at the man again and again, willing herself not to sob, but it felt as though none of the blows even registered.

Then the sick bastard must have struck her in the side of her face, and as her head snapped back she heard the sound of a jacket hitting the floor and a zipper being undone.

Unable to stop herself, Beth let out a scream.

Wrath pulled out the wrinkled slip of paper from his trouser pocket, checking again to see that he had the right address, though it had stuck in his memory since he had first glanced at it. Darius's familiar, almost calligraphic writing told him what he already knew; the daughter lived in this apartment building and he was minutes away from meeting her. Closing his eyes and sensing that no humans were near, Wrath steadied his breathing and prepared to dematerialize.

Heavens forbid he should take the elevator.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in front of a cast iron wrought grille, guarding an otherwise flimsy-looking door. Tentatively, he tested the iron with one hand. Locked. Not that it mattered. In a second the three locks holding the gate in place were undone, and so was the one click that opened the door to him. Wrath swung the grille open to let himself into the tiny home.

The first thing that hit him was the lingering scent of Darius's daughter. An understated sweetness, something floral... like –

_Night-blooming roses,_ he thought. He hadn't seen that flower in probably a few hundred years, and yet here he was, breathing in the bouquet in mouthfuls. It was absolutely captivating, and he had to stop himself from closing his eyes and indulging completely in the fragrance.

That was when Wrath noticed that the daughter was not in the apartment. There was no movement in the flat, no lights turned on, and no breathing, save for his own. Which would not have been unusual had it not already been past one in the night.

In that beat of silence, Wrath heard a muted scream.

_Elizabeth?_

Wrath wheeled around, tracing the source of the sound. He had no reasons for the sudden spike in his heartbeats, the scarlet haze flooding his vision, or the fury that shook him from head to toe, leaving him trembling. Closing his eyes, he knew only one thing: he _needed_ to make sure Elizabeth was safe.

In half a second, the apartment was completely empty.

* * *

Beth fought against her assailants, as hard as she could. Kicking when her legs were free, elbowing, squirming and struggling against the men to put space between their disgusting lips, slimy hands, prying eyes and her body, but nothing worked. She was too weak, too tired, and they were running on the thrill of adrenaline and lust.

Just as one of the men dipped his head and pressed his chapped lips to her neck, Beth thought she heard a very, very faint whooshing sound, and the click of a boot on the pavement. Or maybe it was just her going insane, her mind in overdrive at the sensations that made her squirm in the skin.

The next moment, the man's lips were gone, and so were his hands that had pressed flat against her thighs. As she felt the sudden rush of cool air against her skin, Beth almost wept in relief. Then all at once, as if the terror-filled haze in her mind at cleared to make way for other pains, she felt acutely the burn in her legs, the tightness in her temples and the tightening of her throat, like an invisible hand was squeezing her windpipe close.

_Not again. Not now_, she cried out, though nothing but a ragged breath escaped her lips.

Vaguely aware that she was sinking to her knees on the cold cement, the last thing Beth heard before an icy blankness took her was a man's voice calling her name.

_Elizabeth!_

_Elizabeth…_

_Eliza-_

* * *

For the second time in that night, Wrath stood at the foot of Elizabeth's apartment building. This time, though, he had her in his arms, and as the fragrance of her skin enveloped him, he silently thanked the Virgin that she was out cold.

The look on his face would probably have frightened the girl half to death.

Hell, Wrath did not even want to see his own face at that moment. Something was wrong with him - yes, the shock of Darius's death must have scrambled his wits beyond recognition. Because not once in the past few hundred years had a female even caused a stirring in his heart (or his groin), and yet here he was, basking in the perfume of a human's skin as if it were an aphrodisiac.

_God, what is wrong with me_? Wrath thought as he pushed the elevator button that would take them to Elizabeth's apartment. Darius had asked him to take care of his daughter, help her through her transition and find her a worthy hellren, and here he was thinking of sexing up the female just because she smelt like flowers.

Not just sex, Wrath realized with a bit of a shock. He was feeling not just the overwhelming urge to bury himself to the hilt inside of Elizabeth, but an undeniable, uncontrollable, irresistible desire to protect her, to care for her needs and to feed her from his hand.

_Oh sweet Virgin_, _this is not happening._

Wrath halted the direction of his thoughts, knowing that he, of all people, was incapable of truly taking care of her, of taking her as shellan. Instead he focused on entering Elizabeth's apartment and getting her through the door without jostling her. He flipped the switch of the foyer light as he passed through, but save for an empty _click_, nothing happened. Shrugging, Wrath headed for the bedroom. It wasn't as if he needed light to navigate anyway.

As Wrath entered the tiny bedroom, eyeing the sparse furniture and bare walls, he felt yet again the sensation of something warm tickling his heart. Something about having Elizabeth in his arms, about carrying her into her bedroom and laying her gently down on the bed just felt so… _right._ It was as if he was waiting for this sensation for the longest time, but hadn't even known it himself.

And as he lowered her small frame onto the bed and smoothed her lovely auburn hair away from her face, Wrath felt a warmth growing somewhere lower in his body. Elizabeth was on a bed, and he was in her bedroom. It felt so easy, too easy, to just bend down and nuzzle her soft parted lips and kiss his way down her slender neck. One movement and he could be where he wanted to be – _desired_ to be – deep within her… his cock twitched, goading him on.

For the third time in the night, Wrath forced himself to snap out of his reverie and focus on the task at hand. He could practically smell her transition nearing; he had four, maybe five days, to break the news to her and get her back to the Brotherhood compound before all hell broke loose under her skin.

So now was definitely not the time to be thinking with his cock.

* * *

Beth stirred, feeling the grandmother of all migraines grace her temples with its presence. God, she felt like death. Maybe she really was dying, she thought, recalling the increasing frequency of the trembling, the terrible headaches and the occasional fainting.

_Wait, fainting?_

With a start, Beth jolted upright and felt for her surroundings, then immediately relaxed. Familiar sheets, familiar smells. She was in her own bed, in her own home. But how had she gotten from prey-of-the-night to safe and sound? She couldn't have dragged herself back home in the midst of unconsciousness, right?

Just then, she heard a rustling in the far corner of the bedroom, like… fabric rubbing against the wallpaper. She stiffened and drew the duvet tighter around her body.

"Is - is someone there?"

Wrath stared back at Elizabeth, puzzled. She was looking right at his chest, eyes wide open with fear, but it did not seem as though she had registered his presence. It was not lack of light, either, for he had located one solitary lamp in the room that actually turned on, casting a soft glow around the two of them.

"Elizabeth," Wrath called softly, slowly. "Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you."

At the sound of his words, he caught the movement of her eyes as they flicked upwards, meeting his own in a blank, unblinking stare. Unfocused.

That was when it hit him.

Darius's daughter was blind.


	2. Chapter 2

Beth froze as she heard the unknown man in her room take a heavy step towards her. He must have rescued her from the drunkards in the alley, but for all she knew he could be a bigger monster than the three of them put together. She couldn't trust him.

"How do you know my name?" she bit out, hating the way her voice shook. "And how did you know where I live?"

"The reason I know you," the man said quietly, "is because your father sent me to… take care of you."

Beth had expected anything but that. Her pulse began to pick up, and as her hands grew clammy at the mention of her father, she swallowed past the lump in her throat and threw off the sheets covering her.

"Scum," she spat out at the man, closing up the distance between herself and the man in three short strides, until she was sure he was standing right in front of her. "I don't know what kind of sick joke you're playing but you should leave." She put her arms out in front of her and shoved hard at him, but it felt like she was pushing against a steel wall.

"Elizabeth, stop this," he growled, his voice almost… commanding. He grabbed her wrists and held them down by her sides, and at that moment Beth hated him.

She hated the way he restrained her with much greater ease than he should have; he hated his voice and how confident, how sure it was; she hated that he'd come into her house and claimed that he knew the one man she'd spent her life hating.

Worst of all, she hated that she hoped with all her heart that he was telling the truth.

"Calm down and listen to me," he said in a softer tone, loosening his hold on her arms. "I'm not lying. Your father – he was brother to me. You might think that he cares not about you but he has been watching over you. Even now. That is why I am here."

Beth very nearly lost it. Turning away from the man, she forced herself to take a breath before she spoke. "_If_ you're not lying, if that man is so worried about me, then why isn't he here right now? Why hasn't he been to see me even once in the last twenty-five years?"

She expected him to stutter, to make up a shit excuse about the man who was supposed to be her father, but instead he only said, "He was afraid you wouldn't accept him."

Beth wheeled around. "Why wouldn't I? Unless he was deep into some illegal shit-"

And then the pieces fell into place in her mind. _Your father – he was brother to me. _

Was.

"That's why you're here, not him. He's dead, isn't he?"

When the man didn't answer, Beth nodded to herself. "Gang fight? Drug bust? Never mind, I don't want to know. So he sent you as a bodyguard, is that it? To make up for all the times he wasn't around?"

The man took a deep breath, as if he was suddenly very tired. "If you must know, he has always watched over you. All these years. He was careful never to appear in your life, but he could never quite stay away, either."

Beth didn't know what to think. What this man said challenged everything she'd thought about her father, but she knew it could be true. Probably was true. Hell, how many times had she thanked her fairy godmother for things that shouldn't have happened? She was under-qualified for her job in customer service but she got it anyway; even this apartment she had gotten for way, way less than it was worth. Life wasn't easy on her own, but even she had to admit that it could have been much harder.

If it weren't for…

Beth had to sit back down on the edge of the bed, fighting the urge to cry. She'd been so wrong, for so long.

"And what you're thinking, about the illegal dealings, is not true." The man came over to her. "Your father and I, we are – different. Unusual. And soon you will become like us."

Beth frowned. What he was saying sounded like the script out of a Scifi movie, and it scared the hell out of her.

"I know you're afraid," he continued. "And this will be hard for you to believe-"

"Just tell me. Let it rip." Beth almost laughed out of nerves. All that build-up was just making her more and more frightened.

"As you wish, Elizabeth. The pains you have been feeling in your head, your limbs, the fainting bouts; these are signals that your body is ready to change… into a vampire."

There was a second of silence as the words hit her. Then Beth felt like she was going to faint again.

"I – Let me lie down… for a second."

As she eased her body back onto the bed, she felt a hand behind her head and another on her back, supporting her.

_Vampire_.

The man was a vampire, but his hands on her felt like a man's, and his voice sounded like a man's. Beth knew she should have been afraid of him, but funnily enough, she wasn't. In that instant, it felt like he was the only person she had to depend on, who knew what she was and would be going through. She… trusted him. It was probably the stupidest thing she could do right now.

Or perhaps the smartest.

* * *

Wrath stood at the foot of the bed, watching as Elizabeth lay with her eyes closed, her breathing gradually slowing to a gentle, even pace. God, she looked like an angel. He had to look away, his gaze bouncing around the few pieces of functional furniture in the room, resting anywhere but her. Staring at her while she was sleeping, completely defenceless, just seemed like he was violating her in some way.

Ten or twenty minutes must have passed, and he thought she had fallen into sleep for sure, when she opened her mouth and spoke in a small voice.

"Do you eat people?"

Wrath turned. Her eyes were still closed, and for a moment she seemed just like a child – scared, alone, helpless.

"No," he said slowly, testing the air for the scent of fear. "We feed from others like us, though of the opposite sex. Human blood does little to sustain or nourish us."

"Will I be… hungry a lot?" she mumbled.

"No," Wrath said again, feeling like a hypocrite. At that moment he was so starved that he anxiously needed Marissa, but he suppressed the roar of thirst into a low rumble. _All in the mind…_ "At the beginning, you will need to feed from a male every two or three days, but it gets better. I only require blood every few weeks."

At that, Elizabeth raised her head and looked at him. Her deep brown eyes were unfocused and slightly hazy, but even then her gaze was unfaltering. Even then, she was the most beautiful female that had ever laid eyes on him.

"Will I be feeding from, uh-" Colour rose to her cheeks, staining them red. "-from… you?"

_Sweet Virgin in the Fade_, Wrath cursed inwardly. Just the thought of bringing his wrist to her lips and nourishing her with his own blood made his partially docile penis surge to life with a vengeance. But after the transition, another male would have the honour and pleasure of doing that for her. He would see to it. Heavens knew, he did not make a good hellren. And she deserved so much more than that.

"Yes, initially. When you go into transition you will need blood to complete the process. Darius asked me to seek you out for this reason. It will happen soon, Elizabeth, and I intend to take you to our compound before then."

_Or maybe take you, right here, right now_.

"Beth," she uttered, and for a second Wrath thought he had voiced his thought out loud.

"Pardon?"

"You called me Elizabeth. I prefer Beth," she said with a small shrug. "Well, that seems rather insignificant now."

Wrath shook his head. Then he caught himself, and said, "No, of course not. You can call me Wrath."

And as Beth said his name, Wrath realized it was the first time he saw her smile.

He never felt happier.

* * *

Dear God.

Beth realized she had practically come to terms with talking to a vampire - to _becoming_ a vampire. But hearing Wrath talk about being one just made it seem so normal, as if it were simply an alternative lifestyle. And maybe things would turn out to be okay. Maybe she would just be an average vampire living an average vampiric life.

For now, though, all she wanted was to live her average human life for just a little bit longer.

"Wrath? About going to your compound and preparing for my transition and all that, can we start tomorrow? I mean, for tonight I kind of just want to be Beth Randall the human and sleep in my own human bed."

She felt a little selfish about the request. After all, the guy came all the way here to take her to his place for her safety, and here she was wanting to stay.

But Wrath just said, "Sure, one night wouldn't hurt."

In the silence that descended upon them then, Beth thought about asking him about what her father was like. But then she imagined herself turning into a bawling mess and embarrassing herself in front of him, and decided against it.

"I'm sorry for what I said about my father. It's just that my whole life, I've thought of him as this huge villain who didn't give a damn if I lived or died. And then one day I find out otherwise - but I guess it's too late either way."

"No… he would have been happy to hear that. He loved you very much." Wrath's voice was tinged with sadness, and Beth guessed that the wound from her father's death was still fresh. Which made her feel even guiltier.

"So… about my father…" Beth started, unsure of how to phrase her question. "You said he's like your brother, so that means you must be – what, close to fifty? That kind of makes you my uncle, doesn't it?"

Wrath chuckled, and he sure as hell didn't sound like a middle-aged man. "Oh god, no. The others and I have been alive for hundreds and hundreds of years, but physically, I look closer to your age. So did your father, which would have been strange, actually."

"Well, maybe being a vampire has its perks after all," Beth joked. "But speaking of physical appearances… I don't actually know what you look like. If it's not too rude to ask, do you mind if I, uh," she hesitated. "Uh... look?" She held up her hands, in case he didn't quite understand.

There was a beat of silence, and Beth thought he was going to refuse. But he didn't. Instead, she heard him walk quietly to the side of the bed where she lay, and she heard the rustling of his clothes and felt the weight upon the bed where he sat next to her.

"Go ahead," Wrath muttered, and Beth was almost startled at the proximity of his voice.

Trying not to blush, she lifted her right hand and felt for his face.

The first thing she noticed was the lack of facial hair, because for some reason she had pictured him with stubble. Then she began creating the image of his face in her mind as her hand felt his chin-length hair, his strong-set jaw, the groove just south of his cheekbone, his closed eyes and lastly, his thin but well-shaped lips that let out a soft moan as she stroked them. Good god, he was a stud. She hadn't expected him to be that beautiful.

What she also didn't expect was the surge of lust that hit her, almost like a physical pulse of energy. It left her lips dry and her body wet between the legs, and out of nowhere she ached violently for the man in front of her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she licked her yearning lips and pressed her palm against his cheek, her thumb brushing across his lower lip.

"Kiss me," she heard herself say, but her voice didn't sound like hers. It was far too needy, far too urgent, far too… aroused.

She felt his jaw tighten under her palm, and just when she anticipated the feel of his lips against hers, he stood up and moved away from the bed.

"I cannot do that," Wrath said, and though the lust left her in that second, what replaced it was the heavy thud of rejection.

Beth's face burned, and she fought the urge to cover it with the sheets. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I don't know what… came over me."

"Maybe I should go," he said, and a second later Beth heard something being placed on the nightstand. "I will leave my cell phone here, and call before I send someone over to pick you up tomorrow morning. If you need anything, dial 1 and you will get me."

Beth just nodded mutely, her eyes lowered. God, she was so ashamed of herself. She hadn't wanted a man that badly since she was sixteen, and she sure as hell hadn't come onto a man like that before. Worst of all, he hadn't even shown any interest in her.

"Alright, see you tomorrow." Wrath cleared his throat, and then Beth felt his fingers lift her chin. In a much softer voice, he said, "Believe me, I _want_ to kiss you. But it's not right."

Beth knew that he was only being nice. A man who was as handsome as he was wouldn't want a girl who looked like she did. But as she counted the steps he took towards the door, she could have cared less about her shame, or her pride. She just felt so, so alone. And she didn't want him to go.

There was the creak of the doorknob, and the words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Wrath, please stay with me tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

Beth woke, feeling disoriented. She swatted at the air around her head, not knowing why she felt the urge to. Then a half second later, she heard the rattling of something vibrating against her wooden nightstand.

Wrath's phone. She started to remember what had happened the night before… the crazy revelations about her father, about Wrath, about herself. About life after death.

The buzzing persisted, annoyingly. Beth tried to move her right hand, but it was inexplicably immobile. _Oh, right_. Wrath's hand was clamped around hers, not too tight, but tight enough that she couldn't wriggle her hand out. God, with that hold on her hand he _had_ to be awake. But as the buzzing stopped momentarily and Beth listened for his deep, lumbering breaths, she knew that he was dead to the world.

Beth felt her face flush red-hot. Her first time waking up next to a man and he wasn't even technically a man.

The buzzing started up again and this time, Beth groped for the phone with her free hand. She found it and hit the left side of the screen with her thumb until a tinny static voice came from it.

"Hello?" she answered, unsure if she should just have left it.

There wasn't even a split second hesitation before the gruff male voice, menacing and curt, practically growled back.

"Who the fuck are you and where in the fuck is Wrath?"

Beth winced. Some people just weren't made for mornings.

"He's, ah, sleeping." Beth tested her hand again to see if his had budged. Nope.

"Sleep- what the fuck? He never sleeps through his calls. You have two seconds to tell me why you're lying and where he is."

Okay, she was staring to get mad. "First of all, I am not. Lying. Secondly, why do I even have to take this crap-"

The phone was ripped from her hand before she could finish. She hadn't even heard Wrath move, but then all of a sudden his footsteps were pacing before her and he was talking to the rude guy in a hushed tone.

"I'm fine," he was saying. "V, I'm. Fine. Chill the fuck out… Yes… Yes, I'm with the daughter. She's-"

There was a pause, leaving Beth to think that he might have turned to look at her for a second.

"-fine. For now. Look, listen to me…"

Beth tuned out and got out of bed, stretching a little. She told herself that eavesdropping was rude and that she should give him some privacy, but really she just didn't know how to face him. She walked past him and out into the hall, taking care to draw shut all the blinds along the way.

At least nothing had happened between them the night before. He'd stayed with her, refusing to get under the covers, and talked through what being a vampire would be like. There were things that scared her shitless, of course, like not being able to go out in daylight, or the existence of lessers whose sole life purpose was to hunt vampires down. But when she grew quiet and mulled over his words, trying her darnedest not to cry out of self-pity, Wrath simply held her hand and assured her that he would see her through.

Then there were perks, too; eternal life (though whether that was a curse was yet unknown), youthfulness for centuries upon centuries, enhanced reflexes, the possibility of a cured vision, and best of all, she was going to live with the band of warriors that Wrath and her father belonged to. In her father's home.

God, how she'd dreamed of having a home. Not just a house, but an actual home. Her father wasn't around anymore, but she'd be going to meet people that knew him personally, and lived with him. She was going to live in the same house that he did! It felt like the only connection she would ever have to the man who had supposedly loved her all her life.

Practically squirming with anticipation, Beth hopped over to her tiny kitchen and took out breakfast things. She couldn't cook, so all she set out were two bowls of granola, two glasses of milk and two glasses of juice. But it felt slightly meagre, and she didn't know how much Wrath could eat, so to that she added a couple of fruits.

Beth was in the middle of paring an apple when she heard Wrath emerging from her room.

"Here, let me." He took the fruit and the blade away, cutting off her protest. "And thanks for drawing the blinds. It's a real pain to get first degree burns first thing upon waking."

She heard the smile in his voice, and it made her smile too.

"Was that one of the warriors? He sounds a little… anxious." She held back a laugh and took a swig of the juice.

"That's right. Don't mind him, he just had a fit because he couldn't reach me at every waking and resting hour of the day. Guess I can't blame him though, I'm rarely out of the compound in the mornings."

Beth blushed deeply, and turned away. She tried to make a quip about V making a good wife, but her thoughts were interrupted by three rapid knocks at her front door, followed by someone calling her name.

"Beth, it's me. I brought breakfast!"

"Shit, I totally forgot." She set down the glass she was holding and rushed to the door, swinging it open. What greeted her was a fresh glazed donut, her favourite, held to her mouth. She took a bite and smiled through the mouthful.

"Hi. I have a guest, actually," she mumbled.

"Oh. That him? He looks…" There was an undeniable double-take in his voice. "... Nice."

Beth found herself frowning at the tone in her friend's voice. Wrath must have been standing behind her, and she wished she could have seen if he'd done anything to put him off. She turned, introducing them, anyway.

"Wrath, Butch. He's a good friend. Butch, Wrath. He, uh… he's a new friend of mine."

* * *

"Look, listen to me. Coordinate the Brotherhood attacks for me during this time. Just for a couple of days." Beth left the room, but Wrath lowered his voice, just in case. "I have to stick with Beth… keep her safe."

"What? Wrath, I know it's Darius's daughter and all, but just lodge her up in the compound and get Fritz to call you when the transition starts. Shit, man, the lesser just keep on coming. The boys and I figure they're trying to track our location, the way they're laying off the usual fight-to-the-death game plan. It's like they actually have a workable strategy this time."

Wrath ran his free hand through his hair and let out an exasperated breath. He knew the situation with the lessers wasn't looking good, but he had to make sure Beth was safely through her transition first. And he wasn't going to leave her unguarded.

"You think I don't know that? Christ, V, just buy me a few days till I find Beth a hellren. I trust that you boys can handle yourselves till then. I'll be by the compound later in the day. We'll talk then."

"Fine." There was a pause. "And Wrath? Sleeping through your calls is really not cool, man. No offense, brother, but keep your wits up."

Wrath hissed and hit the end call button. He didn't need Vishous telling him what he already knew. God, the boys would never let him live it down if they found out that he'd had the best sleep in his life in some female's tiny bed. Or that he'd slept in a female's bed without taking her.

Shit, maybe V was right. He should be on high alert at all times now, not getting carried away by flowery feelings. He stalked out of the room in a dark mood, not bothering to grab his shirt off the floor. Beth couldn't see, so what the hell. At least he still had pants on. The flat was mercifully dark; not a peep of sunlight filtering through the thick blinds, which Wrath was thankful for. Beth adapted fast. He would have thought she would still be in denial about the entire affair.

Wrath found Beth in the kitchen, paring an apple. The sight of the meal that she had prepared for them made his heart trip and his lower body tighten, and Wrath caught himself before his thoughts ran further. She couldn't have known that providing food for another was an intimate thing in his world. Nevertheless, he wanted to return the favour.

"Here, let me," he said, making quick work of the apple. "And thanks for drawing the blinds. It's a real pain to get first degree burns first thing upon waking."

The smile on her face was even better than the one last night. Maybe she did like having him around. He could live with that.

"Was that one of the warriors? He sounds a little… anxious," she said, mirth in her voice. Wrath found himself grinning right along.

"That's right. Don't mind him, he just had a fit because he couldn't reach me at every waking and resting hour of the day. Guess I can't blame him though, I'm rarely out of the compound in the mornings."

Wrath caught a hint of a blush on her face, right before she turned away to wash her hands. He thought he would never tire of looking at her. It was such a pity, though, that she had never seen with her own eyes just how beautiful she was.

He heard footsteps then, approaching the flat, followed by three knocks on the wooden door. Immediately, Wrath stiffened, thankful for the knife in his hand. The sound of a male voice calling Beth in a familiar way did little to ease the tension in his muscles.

If anything, it intensified it.

Beth opened the door, and as Wrath stepped out of the kitchen behind her, he saw the man feeding her a donut from his hand.

Wrath only narrowly stopped himself from launching the small knife straight into the male's chest. Vaguely, he heard the two of them exchange words, though all he really heard was his mind saying 'get your fucking hands off her.'

The prickling scent of unease wafted into the room and Wrath nearly smiled. No doubt he intimated the human. Well, good. Then the scent morphed into acrid jealousy and he wanted to dagger the human again. He was jealous of Wrath. Which meant that he was in love with Beth.

Either that, or he was just eyeing Wrath's upper body strength.

Not betraying his emotions, the human took a step into the flat and extended a hand. Well, kudos to him for that. Either he was daft enough to not perceive the death threat Wrath was, or he was good at pretending otherwise. Wrath decided to play nice, if only for Beth's sake. No, he didn't really want to carve up this man right on her doorstep. Tempting, but impolite.

But as Beth introduced the men to each other, Wrath caught himself. He set the knife down and took the man's hand, pumping once. "Wrath," he said simply, but without menace. He knew his anger was irrational, his irritation unreasonable. Beth was not his shellan, not his to protect and to guard. And soon she would belong to another male… it was time he remembered that fact well.

Wrath stalked back to the kitchen, leaving the two some privacy to talk. As he whipped out his phone and dialled for Fritz, he tuned out their hushed words, listening to only the murmur of Beth's voice to know she was near. If only to ensure her safety, for that was his job.

A few moments of settling arrangements with Fritz, Wrath heard the front door close shut and Beth stepped into the kitchen, obviously pleased that her friend Butch had come to visit.

"Y'know, Butch said he doesn't think you're good company. But I told him that was rubbish, you seem like a good enough guy to me-" she was saying.

Wrath cut her off. "Maybe you're too quick to judge," he said, but as her face fell, he regretted the words instantly. He cleared his throat. "You'd best start packing the things you want to take with you. Fritz, your father's servant, is on his way to pick you up."

"Oh… I thought you'd stay for a while more." Wrath ignored the pang in his chest. "And what about you? Are you coming along?"

"I'll… see you there."

"Alright."

It was hard to miss the strange tone in her voice, and Wrath didn't need to smell the air to know she was confused with his sudden about-face in mood, but he put his guilt aside. It was time he stepped up to his responsibilities, which incidentally did not include seducing the female, whether intentionally or not. It would do him good to remember that.


	4. Chapter 4

They ate in silence, him absolutely quiet while she chewed and munched and swallowed noisily enough for two persons. Something was different, was off, but what exactly, Beth couldn't figure out. They were so amicable… flirty, even, but something had happened after Butch's visit and now Wrath was as friendly as a corpse. She could practically feel his brooding settling densely around the dining table.

"So, um…" Beth swallowed her mouthful of granola with an unladylike gulp. There was an awkward gap in her sentence as she wrecked her brain for a conversation topic. "You eat food. Not just blood?"

Oh god, that was downright shameful. She sounded like a four year-old.

But it worked to dispel the awful quiet… even though his reply made it sound as though he was applying for a job offer. The book title _Interview with a Vampire _inexplicably flitted through her mind.

"Yes, that is correct. We eat on a daily basis all kinds of human meals for energy, but to gain strength, vitality – real nourishment in that sense – we feed on blood once every two, three weeks."

She nodded. It made it seem like a trivial fact, a _by the way_ kind of thing, but she had the faint idea that it might be all she was going to think about in a few weeks' time.

"You said that your - _our_ kind feeds on the blood of the opposite sex. So who do you feed from?"

Wrath cleared his throat. "The convention is for males to feed regularly on their shellans; that is, their wives. But I feed on a member of the aristocracy, an outstanding female named Marissa."

Beth munched thoughtfully, going over his words. Males fed on their wives… but Wrath didn't have one. She tried not to question why she felt hopeful at that. Or why, when he mentioned an _outstanding female,_ the image of a perfect, goddess-like woman flitting around in a pure white gown left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Abruptly, Wrath stood up, his chair dragging against the floor. Almost at the same instant, the doorbell rang.

"Fritz has arrived," he said, going to the door. "You should pack any essential items you need to take with you, but pack light. Any clothing you need, Fritz will purchase."

The man called Fritz entered the room and greeted her with impeccable politeness and manners, making her feel for the second time that morning like an unschooled brute.

As Beth finished the last of her breakfast and rose from her chair, she felt a pang of panic and concurrently a surge of love for her modest home. _Would she ever eat at this table again?_ She couldn't say for sure.

Nevertheless, there was no time to be sentimental. She made quick work of the packing, helped by the fact that there was really nothing essential to her lifestyle. The only thing Beth really needed was her iPod. So she grabbed that, added a couple of toiletries and underwear sets to her handy tote bag, and she was good to go. It was almost sad, really, how there was so little that meant much to her.

"Ready," she said to the two men as she emerged from her bedroom. "I'll just do the dishes and then we can leave."

"No worries, Miss Elizabeth, I have cleaned up the kitchen in the meantime. If you please, we could proceed back to the house now," the kindly old gentleman said. How strange to have a –- a butler in this day and age.

"Thanks very much, Fritz. Though I would prefer if you called me just Beth." She smiled at him. He was so much nicer than she had imagined, and if everyone at the compound were like that then she would be so thankful to get to live there.

Wrath got up, his shoes clicking on the floor as he ushered the both of them to the door. "I will see you both there. Fritz, take care of her."

As Beth turned to say goodbye, a thought popped up. "But, Wrath, how are you going to drive there in daylight?"

"Don't worry about me. I have my ways."

She thought she heard a smile in his voice when he replied, but maybe she was just imagining things.

* * *

The drive to the house (the word house just seemed inappropriate now) was pleasant enough, but standing in the hallway of what was likely an enormous, elaborate mansion, Beth felt like turning back and running straight home. From the echoes her light footsteps were making against what felt like marble flooring, she could tell that the ceilings were very, very, very high – vaulted, even. Beth had gathered from what little Fritz had told her in the car that her father had accumulated some wealth over the years, but she never expected a house the size of a Victorian church

But now that Fritz had gone to take her bag up to her room, leaving her entirely alone, Beth had second thoughts. Not just had, but welcomed and entertained them. Could she really live here? Most importantly, how was she to navigate the building if it had long corridors and grand staircases and a generally complex layout? Heavens knew she took long enough to walk around her tiny home without bumping into the walls and closets.

The sound of another person's footsteps interrupted her panicky thoughts. It wasn't Fritz – he had a much quieter walk, and somehow Beth knew intuitively that it wasn't Wrath either.

"Hi," she offered nervously, no idea what to expect.

"You are Darius's daughter," the man said curtly. It wasn't a question. He seemed to be standing a fair distance away from her, which struck Beth as quite odd.

"Yes, I am. How did you know?" She tried her best to sound polite, but really even to her ears her words sounded wary.

He let out a cough of a laugh. "Let's just say that nobody that wasn't welcome in this compound would be standing in the hallway like this. Not alive. Well, we'll see if you make it through-" There was an abrupt pause to his sentence and a change of tone followed.

"Wrath," he greeted.

Beth frowned – she hadn't heard anybody approaching them, but sure enough Wrath was in the room.

"I expect you to be courteous to our guest, V."

At the sound of his familiar voice, Beth felt a flood of relief. So he had been acting strangely at breakfast, but at least she knew she could depend on him here.

"That's easy enough. I'll be a gentleman… while she's still here." The tone in V's voice was anything but gentlemanly. Nonetheless, as he walked towards her, Beth stuck out her hand to shake his.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Beth," she said politely, trying to keep a neutral expression… Though it was probably obvious that she was quite afraid of him.

Then something inexplicable happened.

As V put his gloved hand in hers, there was a 180-degree change in his attitude.

"I'm Vishous," he said after a tiny pause, with no hint of irony in his voice. "If you need anything, feel free to call on me. Wrath will tell you where all our rooms are."

Beth fell silent, completely unsure of how to react. One moment he was icy as can be, the next he was friendly, welcoming… what was up with these vampires and their mood swings?

"I'll catch you later, brother. Going to get some rest before the sun sets." Vishous left quickly, making his way up a staircase not far away.

"That was weird," Beth said, laughing nervously. "He is so…" She left her sentence hanging, not sure if she would offend Wrath if she commented on their drastic attitude shifts.

"It really was," Wrath agreed. Then he took her arm – well, elbow, to be precise – and led her up the same flight of stairs Vishous had taken just seconds ago. "Come, I'll show you around."

* * *

As Wrath led Beth to the corridor where the rooms of most of the Brotherhood were located, he wondered how she felt about the compound. He had never really thought about the place as a home – rather, more as a resting grounds and a convenient location to rally before heading out on night raids.

Of course, what was not for her to like? The house was spacious, grand, and Fritz kept it absolutely spotless. Except for the lack of light, which was not likely to make a difference to her, it was a beautiful place. And it would belong to her quite soon. Darius had left the compound to his name, but as soon as Wrath settled Beth's hellren he would leave the house to them.

"Rhage, Zsadist and Phury live here; in that order," he said as they came to a row of closed doors – no doubt the Brothers were getting some shut-eye since the sun was still out. "And V's room is last on this side. The second last room belonged to Darius."

Speaking of Vishous, Wrath just could not figure out his puzzling behaviour just twenty minutes ago. He could feel the obvious hostility towards Beth just radiating off the male, but that all dissipated and faded into… respect, admiration even. Wrath made a mental note to question V about that. Perhaps he had seen something into Beth's future – though if that were the case, V was sure as hell not to disclose anything.

"And where do you stay?" Beth asked, disrupting his musings. "Not here?"

"This way."

Wrath took her down the stairs and to the basement area where his room was located. He hadn't always lived here. But on nights when the lessers stayed away and the Brothers put on dreadful ghetto hip-hop and watched replays of NFL matches, he swore he would rather be mauled to pieces than stay in the same corridor as the rest.

So he relocated, and enjoyed his peace in the basement room originally meant for storage space. It was not grand, nor furbished with anything other than the necessities (not counting the wax candles), but it was good for him.

And he hoped it was good enough for Beth. Wrath had requested Fritz to clean out the room next to his so she could stay there temporarily – at least, then if the change came while he was resting he could quickly come to her aid.

Wrath opened the door to his bedroom, allowing Beth to enter before him. "Welcome, I guess," he said with a chuckle. It was strange – he never thought of the room as _his_, but having Beth come into his personal space just felt so intimate.

He watched her walk along the perimeters of the walls, trailing her hand across the dark paint and the ledges on which numerous wax candles stood. "I've got to say, it's pretty bare," she admitted, turning to smile at him. "I guess you don't share my father's luxurious lifestyle. And how about these candles? Must be a pain to light them one by one."

Wrath stepped closer to her and held her hand away from the candles, and then with the power that came naturally for as long as he could remember he lit all of them, each candle flicking to life till the whole room was aglow.

Beth could not see the light, but he guessed that she felt the warmth, for she drew in a breath and then turned to him with an expression of wonder. "That was really cool," she whispered, eyes opened wide.

"I'm glad you think so, it really is all I'm useful for," Wrath joked. At the sight of the wide smile on her face, he wanted to kick himself for trying to distant himself from her earlier.

So he was not to have her as shellan. But no one could stop him from enjoying her company while she was still a free female.


	5. Chapter 5

Beth rolled over onto her back, stretching her legs and arms in a horizontal star-jump. The king-sized bed was much larger than her barely-a-queen at home, and the duvet so thick she was practically enveloped in it, but she just couldn't fall asleep. It was only 4 in the afternoon after all… and yet everyone in the house was deep asleep.

She thought about how light-hearted Wrath had been earlier and suppressed a smile. Moody as he could be, he was such a sweetheart sometimes.

Beth stretched her body once more, clenching her toes and fingers, before sitting up and swinging her legs off the side of the bed. The house was so quiet… so nobody would know or mind if she went a little exploring, right?

By trailing her hand along the walls, she was able to find the door in no time.

Slowly, gingerly, Beth located and ascended the stairs to the upper floors - where her intended destination was, where Wrath had led her earlier. As she pricked her ears for the sound of anyone coming, her heart thumped heavily in her chest. _God_, she felt like she was a trespasser on sacred grounds.

Well, technically she was. A trespasser, that is.

Beth touched each of the closed bedroom doors in the corridor as she passed them, counting them off in her head. She hesitated as she reached the second last one.

Yes, that room had belonged to her father, and she so desperately wanted to know him, to know what he was like, what he thought, what he did. But what did she hope to accomplish by entering? No matter how much she could glean about his life, the fact of the matter was that he was gone. She never knew him, and now never could.

Her hand lingered on the cold doorknob, torn between going in and not going in. She knew that either way she would be disappointed.

"What are you doing standing there?"

The gravelly voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and her face flamed at being caught. She hadn't heard a single footstep or a breath, and yet there was someone standing but a few feet away from her.

"Uh, I- I wasn't doing, uh-" she stammered, withdrawing her hand from doorknob as discretely as she could. "Just lost," she lied, giving the man a sheepish grin.

"Rat's ass you were just lost," the man sneered, coming closer to her. His voice was strangely flat, as though it had lost all positive tones to it and was now left with the scraps of cynicism and hostility. "I'd say you were snooping where you shouldn't be."

Even as the warning bells went off in Beth's head, she stayed rooted to the spot. Whether out of fear, shame or pure stupidity, she couldn't tell. "I wasn't planning to do anything," she said defensively. "Only to take a look."

"_Take a look,"_ the man barked out a cruel laugh. His voice was now frighteningly close to her. "The irony_._"

Beth kept her chin up to the man, even as her face flushed red. The flight-or-fight synapse in her brain finally fired, and the man's insult meant that she had no choice but to stand up to him.

"Well?" he said.

"Well what?" Beth snapped.

"Well, go on then. Take a look." The mockery in his voice had dissipated, and as he reached past her to push the door open, Beth felt completely disarmed. Did he just provoke her for the fun of it?_ Either that or_ _all vampires are schizophrenic_, she decided.

Nevertheless, she pushed past him and went into the room. If he was going to play accomplice (or bear witness) to her act of trespass then so be it. But as she stepped into the room, she realized that she had no idea what she was looking for… or what she could even look for.

From what she could tell by feeling for the wall, there were a dozen or more frames mounted on one end, though what they displayed was complete unbeknownst to her. She sat at his desk, feeling for the items he had probably used and saw every day – two fountain pens, a stereo set, more standing photo frames, a stack of papers, a laptop – but there was no meaning attached to them. After all, they were just everyday items now. They could have belonged to any man.

The only thing she knew, at least, was that her father was organized. And that he really liked photographs.

Beth stumbled into the bed in the middle of the room and sat down, feeling bleak. She had told herself not to expect anything but here she was, disappointed anyway.

There was a cough from the doorway and Beth startled again; she thought the man had left. But presumably he had been watching her, and at that moment he said the first kind things she had heard since meeting him.

"He thought of you constantly, you know," he uttered, so quietly Beth had to strain to make out the words. "Annoying as fuck, too. Kept going on about what a beautiful kid you were or some nonsense like that."

The man cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with this revelation.

"Those photos-"

There was a pause, and Beth guessed that he had pointed to the photo frames decorating the walls and the desk.

"They're of you. Every frickin' single one of 'em. They start from when you were a baby, up till like, a few weeks before he… you know. See here. This one says '89, _One year_."

Beth couldn't help herself; tears welled up in her eyes and a burning lump in her throat threatened to reduce her to sobs. She stood suddenly and went to sit at the desk, if only to hide her tears from the man. He was being so kind by telling her these things, but who knew if he just wanted to incite this reaction from her? She bit her trembling lip, willing herself not to let out any sound of weakness.

But the man didn't seem to notice her tears, or if he did he didn't show it. He simply went on reading off the captions of the photographs, as though talking to himself. "_Aged 10. Aged 12. Halloween '94. _This one just looks like a mug shot. Were you ever arrested?"

Beth choked out a laugh. "No," she giggled shakily. "That was just a joke. My friend Butch is a cop." She dried her eyes on her sleeves, beyond caring that he saw her tears. "Thanks for doing this. It means more than you know."

"You're not the only one who wishes to have met their family… before it was too late." And just like that, the man's voice went flat again; as though what humanity had motivated him just moments ago had all but evaporated. "Or maybe I just took pity on a blind orphan girl."

Beth ignored his latter remarks. "Regardless, thank you. And you know," she continued, feeling courageous. "It's not too late. It would never be too late to know that my father once loved me."

He sneered. "That's new. Someone who doesn't believe I'm only capable of evil. Well, whatever. I've wasted enough time on this."

"Wait," Beth called out just as his footsteps were leaving the room. "I don't know your name," she tried to say, but even before she finished her sentence, she could feel the beginnings of an attack coming on. Starbursts were firing in her head, and her hands quickly went icy cold, then completely numb.

Beth didn't know if the man had answered her or not. She could barely hear past the awful ringing in her ears… that was the last thing she knew before she passed out.

* * *

Beth awoke to the muffled thumping of electronic beats and loud conversation.

It had been a long time since she awoke to any sort of noise. For a long time, ever since leaving the foster system, she had grown accustomed to living in silence and waking to silence. For a few long minutes she just lay in bed, listening to the rhythmic pulsing of low bass notes and to the low voices that rose and dipped, increasingly audible.

The music seemed to be coming from further in the house, but the voices sounded as though they were just next-door. Wrath's room.

Beth got up and padded over to the door, noticing that she was wrapped in a dressing gown. Someone must have changed her clothing, and she hoped it was Fritz. She opened the door to her room and stepped out, colliding headfirst with a very solid human being.

"Oh, you're up," an unfamiliar voice quipped. "You feeling alright now?"

"Yeah, I think so," Beth answered as he walked to Wrath's room and thumped hard on the door.

"Wrath!" he yelled. "Girl's up."

The shouting made her head throb, but at least he seemed friendly enough.

The muffled voices stopped, and the door to Wrath's room swung open with such a force that Beth heard the whoosh as it went.

"Rhage," he said, addressing the man who had spoken to Beth. "Get Phury and V and join Tohr down by 45 West Street. He's tracking down a group of seven lessers. Make sure you three stay safe tonight. Feels like the lessers are up to something."

"Roger that, brother," Rhage replied in a chipper voice. "Are you and Zsadist coming?"

"Zsadist can do whatever the fuck he wants. As he always does." Beth recoiled at the poison in his voice. "And I will be staying in tonight in case of another attack."

Somehow Beth felt the eyes of all three men on her. She squirmed.

"Don't worry, Wrath, don't stay in on account on me," she tried to smile reassuringly but it felt fake somehow. Maybe because she knew it _was_ fake; her head was still throbbing and her fingers were tingling. Who knew if another attack was coming that night? "I'll be fine."

Wrath walked towards her and held her by the elbow. "That is not your call. It is mine," he muttered, steering her back into her room.

As the door closed behind them and the only sounds in the room were that of her breathing and the quiet footsteps of Rhage and Zsadist ascending the stairs, Beth was suddenly nervous. Wrath was not in a good mood, and instinctively she knew it was because of her.

* * *

Wrath said nothing as Beth fidgeted with her dressing gown, clearly uncomfortable with the silence. Anger at Zsadist and at himself had driven his temper up and his mood down south, and for now he just needed to see with his own eyes that Beth was safe, standing in front of him away from the dangers of his brother.

"Was Zsadist the one who brought me here after I fainted?" Beth asked him in a quiet voice. The last thing he needed to her was his brother's name on her lips.

Wrath pressed his fingers to the inner corners of his brow bone as he saw in his mind again the image of Zsadist turning up in his bedroom, Beth over his shoulder. Anger rose from deep within his chest again as he remembered the unspeakable rage he had felt as he saw Beth unconscious and with tearstains streaking her cheeks, and the most infuriating of all was that Zsadist – Zsadist, who could not be trusted to treat any female with respect – was the one who had taken her to him.

"Yes," he replied in an emotionless voice, trying his darnedest not to raise his voice. "What in hell were you doing alone with him in the first place?"

"I…"

Wrath smelt the sharp tinge of fear emitting from Beth and softened. He did not mean to frighten her. But he was not in the right state of mind to comfort her either.

"I was just going to visit Darius's room. And he was there. He scraped me the wrong way, at first – but he was really sweet eventually."

Wrath couldn't help sneering. "Sweet," he spat out. He recalled the stories of Zsadist cutting his women and doing unspeakable things to them just to get off, and shook his head. "Zsadist is anything but. That is his name for a reason. And if you knew what was good for you – hell, if you cared at all about my sanity – you would stay the fuck away from him."

He saw Beth flinch from his sharp remarks and felt a flicker of remorse. But that quickly turned into concern as her face suddenly crumpled and she began to sway on her feet.

"Beth?" Wrath steadied her with his hands on her arms, all anger forgotten. "Tell me how you're feeling."

"Giddy," she moaned. "Shivery."

Wrath lifted her off her feet and laid her in her bed, throwing the duvet over her small frame. Her face had gone pale and clammy. The symptoms of the transition were becoming more blatant, more urgent.

He sat on the bed next to her and picked up her hand, which was limp and cold, almost like a corpse's. "This will not hurt, I promise," he whispered, though he was not certain that she could hear him.

He lowered his mouth onto her hand and pricked her index finger on his fang, licking the drop of rich blood that sprung from the cut.

The gorgeous aroma of her blood overwhelmed him, spinning his head, and he took her hand firmly in his to prevent himself from drawing more. It was as though the riveting night-blossom scent that came off her skin was concentrated and condensed into a potent perfume in that one droplet of blood. _God_, it was delicious, compelling, addictive… and she was only a human female.

Wrath struggled to keep his thoughts on Beth and not her blood, even as his body called for more blood and more Beth. Tasting her blood was a luxury, but it was also a test to see if the transition was upon her.

"You'll be fine," he whispered to her, stroking her hand reassuringly. "The transition is close, but it will not happen tonight."

A whimper escaped Beth's lips as a tremor rocked her body, and for once in his lifetime Wrath felt utterly useless. She was in pain, but he could do nothing to alleviate it until the actual transition. All he could do now was to hold her, reassure her and comfort her until it was over.


End file.
